Captive
by athemina
Summary: “I’m JJ Schaffer.” I saw a look of horror dawn on Mrs. P.’s face; “You’re the Schaffer child.. The one that had been kid-” She halted, choking on her words. “The one that had been kidnapped.” Then, cautiously, Miss JJ Schaffer nodded her head slowly.
1. News for the Order

**New story of mine. This is pretty immaturely written; snatches of the new few chapters will be angled such as this one; immature and childish, I guess you could say. Well, not really immature or childish. Just in hopes to get some laughter out of my readers. But I rather like a more serious edge to it. So, here it goes. Please review!**

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing here is mine. Except for whatever doesn't fit into the books. **

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James was grinning like a fool; as per usual. I mean - he _was_ a fool. You _had_ to be a fool to be allegedly in love with our _dear_ friend, Miss Lillian Evans. I must say, Evans was a complete dork, nerd, bitch, perfect prefect... Everything disgusting that comes to mind, she was. I fucking hate her. Why? Because of the unknowing grip he has on Prongs. I don't like the way she assumes things straight off the bat.

Who am I, you ask? Only the handsomest, the cleverest, the most wanted, uniquest man to walk the face of the Earth, let alone Hogwarts. I am the proud Beater of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. I am the Beta of the infamous group, the Marauders. The most wanted man in Hogwarts, because of the devilishly good looks at which I have been graced with.

Ahem, I am the one and only Sirius Black. Well, okay, maybe not the _only_ Sirius Black. But I _am_ the only Sirius _Orion_ Black, and _also_ the only Gryffindor in my stupid, opression-loving family.

Anyhow, our dear Miss Lily Evans is in the Potter Manor, at the moment, sitting between James and I on the couch in the spacious living room, listening to the Order members, who are all gathered at the Potter Manor tonight.

The Order members were all conversing _quite_ loudly, and they _have_ been for a while now. Can't they lower their voices? Merlin. But Evans doesn't seem to mind. Why must she be Muggleborn anyhow? Now she's stuck with James and I at the Potter Manor because her Muggle family was relocated for their safety.

Not that James minds her presence.

And she's watching the Order members with this airheaded, dreamy look on her face, while they are yelling so loud for so long my ears are about to burst! And when I even let out a giggle, she's onto me in a split second, chiding me for being "too loud." But she doesn't do it as gently as the word "chiding" implies. Actually, I can say she's had me clinging to a strand of life every time she sees me even just let out a little simper.

So, here she is, watching these big-mouthed Order members screaming, without shouting at them to be quiet.

Rolling my eyes, I leaned over to my left, whispering in her ear, "Don't you have homework to work on, Evans? Teachers to suck up to? Elves to defend?" She just scowled at me and shook her head, ignoring me, except to shush me rudely and continuing to listen in on the Order. I stuck my tongue out at her when she turned back around. But I listened in too, trying to find out what was so bad that it got the Order shaking in its boots and screaming at each other.

"She's a captive of six years, maybe seven! We must take her in!"

"She could be just a trap!"

"A teenager like her? Why - how - could she be? She's only as old as Sirius and James and Lillian there," Mrs. Potter exclaimed heatedly, pointing over to us on the couch. At the mention of the three of us (and a teenager coming, a female by the majority of 'she's), we all sat up, straighter and more interested. Many nodded at the statement Mrs. P. made. With an agitated sigh, she plopped (or rather, fell) onto an armchair with her face in her hands.

"Call Dumbledore, tell him to bring her in."

I swapped confused but eager faces with Prongs, glancing at Evans when he did, to see what her reaction was. Evans happened to be puzzled and in her Think Mode. I snickered behind my hand, loud enough for her to hear, making her turn toward me and scowl. Which made me grin at her in a joking, flirty way. Our banter was interrupted quite rudely by Dumbledore. Only he wasn't alone.

Evans gasped at who trailed behind him and Prongs and I stared at each other, confused.

There, just a few feet behind Dumbledore (but with Dumbledore all the same), was a girl that seemed to be only fourteen or fifteen. But her height was that of Evans's, maybe James's athletic 6 foot 2. Well, needless to say, she was tall for a fourteen year old girl. I tilted my head; Mrs. P. had said she was around our age. How puzzling.. She seemed a few years short of my age.

She had long, matted black hair (or was it brown? Such filth in it; urgh!), that reached her waist. Her eyes were dark brown, curiously taking in her surroundings. She was thin and gangly, looking malnourished. Her clothes consisted of a dark, ratty Wizard robe, as filthy as she herself was, with Muggle clothing beneath that seemed much too small for someone her size. Her wrists and ankles, protruding from the XXSmall sized clothing she was in, had dark, purplish rings produced from bruises on them, as though the blood circulation was regularly cut off somehow or she regularly fought against chains attached to her legs and arms. I frowned.

All eyes turned to the newcomer, the room ringing in the silence; but the girl didn't seem to notice as she was inspecting the living room with a wide smile on her pale-pink lips. Her pallor color was not unnoticed; it was waxy and ghastly pale, almost light grayish. Almost as

though she hadn't seen the sun in a long time.

I couldn't resist shouting out, "Who are you?" The sudden noise startled her, and she jumped. The smile slid off her face robotically, and she drank me in with her cold eyes. They washed over everyone else in the room, who was looking at her apprehensively. She stared for several moments. Evans elbowed me in the ribs for my outburst and I just managed to hold back a yelp.

"I'm.." She paused and I understood why. Her voice was croaky and hoarse and when she paused, she coughed loudly, trying to coax her voice into working, I s'pose. Then she tried again. "I'm JJ Schaffer." I saw a look of horror dawn on Mrs. P.'s face and I made my way to her, concerned. She stared, still horrified, at Schaffer. Slowly, she lifted her right arm, then awoke her limp hand and outstretched her index finger at Ghost-Girl Schaffer. She did this all very slowly, as though she were afraid.

"You're the Schaffer child.. The one that had been kid-" She halted, choking on her words for a mere second before plowing on. "The one that had been kidnapped."

Then, cautiously, Miss JJ Schaffer nodded her head slowly.

Then many of the women screamed, whilst Evans, Prongs and I blinked in confusion. The girl - Schaffer - smiled darkly at the three of us.

Dumbledore spoke, after clearing his throat. "Shall we continue to the dining area, Dorene?" he asked politely to a flustered Mrs. P. who shot up immediately and nodded her head.

"Yes, of course."

She turned to the three of us (I ran back to my seat when she was okay) on the couch and motioned for us to follow the group. They never let us in on Order stuff.. Weird, right? Of course you think so, how can you say something so right is wrong? Even if it was wrong, you'd just say yes anyway because I'm such a hot Siri-beastie.

Mrs. P. turned to Schaffer and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the dining room and placing her in a seat to the left of Dumbledore. Schaffer was, throughout this act of kindness on Mrs. P.'s part, incredibly stiff and cautious, turning her head to peek into rooms before she passed them and standing so rigid that if she looked like a big old plank of wooden board I would've had no trouble thinking she was one.

Dumbledore rapped his knuckles on the long dining table, which seated the Order, who was again chattering loudly. When the many pairs of eyes turned to the elderly man, he motioned to Schaffer, who had shrunk in her seat when she was seated, constantly fidgeting and looking at the people around her, always daring her eyes sideways at mighty Dumbley-dore when she thought no one was looking. I smirked, giving her a mocking wave, taunting her nervousness or fearfulness (either one), when I was sure she was looking at me. Unexpectedly, at the movement, she wrung her hands uncomfortably.

Definitely fear.

After that, I tuned out, leaning against the beige-cream wall beside James. Then everyone just started leaving and Apparating to their homes outside in the yard, Dumbledore taking the fireplace-version and using Floo to the castle, I guess. Mrs. P. hurried off, muttering something briefly about getting Schaffer's room ready.

Wait - HER ROOM?!

Ghost-Girl is staying with us?! No! It can't be! NOOOO!!!!

"Padfoot, mate, you alright?" Prongs asked me, placing a hand on my shoulder with concern. I think I looked like someone just tortured me with the Crutacious Curse.

Schaffer looks darkly amused, watching my agonized face with a Slytheriny grin. Prat.

Evans stepped up, however, pushing out her hand to Ghost-Girl Schaffer in greeting. I stared at her in disgust once Schaffer's grimy hand grasped it before releasing suspiciously quickly as if Evans just electrocuted her. Evans smiled.

"I'm Lily Evans, JJ," she introduced. "And that's James Potter and Sirius Black. They're the biggest prats in the world, so don't pay them any mind." She smiled again, motioning to Prongs and I airily even as her mention of us brought on an acidic tone. Schaffer nodded her head at Evans, before jumping at the mention of the name "James." She rounded on him, suddenly taking on a wary curiosity.

"My brother's name is James," she said suddenly. James must not have liked her much more than me, because then he said,

"Does it look like I'm your stupid brother?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously, her muscles bunching, jaw clenching. Then, unexpectedly, a tear strayed down her dirty cheeks, leaving a paler shade on the skin where the tear had run down. Brushing it away impatiently, she looked down at the wetness of the tear on her muddy fingers, glaring at it with contempt. She, however, seemed to bite back her retort and pushed past Prongs and I to make it into the living room.

Evans glared at James so fiercely he winced and shrunk away from Tiger-Evans' path, who stepped in toward the fourteen year old girl. Schaffer was at the mantle, looking into the flames. Bending down, she stuffed her fingers into the hearth, yelping as the flames licked at her fingers and burned at the pallor skin but never recoiling from the pain. Evans gasped at the sudden movement, its roots unknown. Whatever compelled her to do something so stupid, was beyond me.

Finally, I rushed to her and jerked her out, whipping around to slap her face for being such a buffoon. But Schaffer had released a scream the minute she saw me turn around and reach to hit her. She had leaped to her feet and jumped away, eyes widened, her legs and arms shielding her face with her knees drawn up to press against her forehead.

I was startled.

Schaffer grabbed this moment to leap up again and retreat to the dining area where she dove beneath the table. Evans, Prongs and I exchanged bewildered glances before I shook my head, passing an equally unsettled Mrs. P. racing down the stairs, eyes wide. "What happened?"

I shook my head at her in response, my lips a thin line as I started to slowly ascend the stairs. I gave her a brief look that read hopelessness.

"The kid's bonkers."


	2. Midnight Snacks

**Reviewww. I know this is only the second day and all, but I got twelve hits and I'd love it if people just said, "Good" or even just "This sucks." I need to improve somehow and reviews are the only way I have any indication of what I botched up and such.**

**I sound painfully desperate..**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for whatever doesn't fit. And the plot. **

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I laid in my bed in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling. I could hear things downstairs... moving. Snatching my wand from the bedside table, I opened the door and traveled downstairs, in nothing but mere flannel pajama bottoms. The kitchen light was on. 

Cautiously, I pushed the door open, and suddenly pointed my wand out, the spells nearly rolling off my tongue. But there, I saw Schaffer, exploring through the cabinets, her upper torso turned toward the door that I stood in front of, her eyes staring and calm yet cold. She took no heed of the bare chest exposing muscles that the majority of the females in Hogwarts would have _killed_ to see, even just _glimpse_.

She turned back around after a few minutes and continued to sift through the cabinet of food. When she saw nothing interesting, she shut it and ventured to the next. And when she surfaced empty-handed, she twisted her upper body to face me again, bluntly asking, "Where's the food?"

I grinned. "Hungry, aye?"

She shrugged and sat on the granite counter top, staring at me. I chortled and made my way to a cabinet near the shut windows and pulled out a jar of peanut butter and packets of hot chocolate. I tossed the jar to her, watching in amusement as she caught it for a minute before it slid from her hands pathetically; funny, it was an easy catch, even for a person like Evans who had no hand-eye coordination. Odd that she would loose control over such an easy catch, one that even Butterfinger-Evans would've caught.

Pressing her lips together in annoyance, she slid from the counter and bent over to retrieve it from the cold tile floor as I grabbed two mugs and heated them both with milk. Grabbing two spoons, I nodded over to the adjacent dining room. I sat with my back to the kitchen entrance, whilst she slid slowly into the seat opposite of mine. Opening the peanut butter and pushing one of the spoons to her, I dunked mine in confidently, shoving the sticky brown peanut butter into my mouth before emptying the packets of hot cocoa into the two mugs, stirring them with my wand.

At that, she furrowed her brow, looking at the motion oddly. I caught this and chuckled a deep chortle again, causing her to snap her head up and stare at me for a minute before looking slowly back down to the mug I pushed to her. She pushed the spoon into the container and raised it with a big wad of peanut butter. After what seemed a very long fifteen minutes (fifteen silent minutes, mind you), she rose from the table and left, meaning to leave her untouched mug of hot cocoa. She only had a spoonful of peanut butter too, whereas I had several and finished my chocolate milk in a matter of minutes.

"Wait! Aren't you going to finish the chocolate milk?" I called to her. She was slowly leaving the kitchen.

"I'm not hungry. You can have it," she replied. I heard the clatter of the spoon landing in the sink and the faint footsteps of her leaving me downstairs on my own. I shrugged after a minute and returned to pigging out.

---

It must have been half an hour when I returned to my room. A flickering light in one of the rooms caught my attention. My curiosity got the better of me, and I pushed the door open. And, much to my surprise, a scream sliced the air and a series of spells began to shoot toward me. I only just managed to put up a barrier in time and even then, the force behind the spells was enough to shove me back into the hallway's far wall.

"Calm down! It's just me!" I screamed, trying to ignore the sound of magic hitting objects and the loud feminine voice inside the room yelling out spells and hexes and curses and charms. "STOP THIS MADNESS!"

The ambush paused, reaching what seemed to be an end and I peered in the room, seeing a terrified Schaffer in the bed, very much awake. Outstretched was her wand, in her right hand. Much of the room and door was blasted to smithereens, and still she ignored it all and looked up fearfully at me. I felt some sort of pity before I threw myself into a rage.

"You just destroyed the room!"

She winced at the volume at which my voice was at and cringed when everyone else in the house (meaning Mrs. P. and Evans and Prongs) stampeded into the guest room, looking at the damage and then at the girl quivering on the bed with her wand still brandished. She began to stammer.

"I'll-I'll-" she kept saying, in shock, I think. She rose to her feet, never once lowering her wand or taking her eyes from us, feeling for the items in the room so she wouldn't run into them. Then she bent down to slide her shoes on, being careful to alternate the wand from one hand to the other when she needed to.

"I-I've done enough, really. I-I should--should go to Dumbledore. I-I troubled you enough.. I-I-" She kept mumbling apologies and saying she'd go to Dumbledore to be relocated. But Mrs. P. just smiled at her and rushed over with a loud, "Oh, it's fine! You may stay!" She let her arms out as though she would just embrace Schaffer. My jaw almost dropped because here came along some new kid who just destroyed one of the guest rooms and a portion of the hallway, just to be let go without a scratch. Prongs and I have done far less damage and still got yelled at.

My jaw really _did_ drop when Mrs. P. collided with an invisible force, obviously of Schaffer's doing. She looked completely guilty; she was backed into the wall where the big window was, her wand poised after setting up the barrier, ready to fight to a duel by the looks of it. Her eyes were wide and fearful, pressing her thin body as far as she could press it. She appeared to be trembling too. Mrs. P. smiled at her and with a wave of her own wand (wait - when did she take that out?), the barrier seemed to lift and she passed through without a trouble.

Schaffer screamed so loudly I clapped my hands to my ears. Diving to the ground, she covered her face with the floor, her arms enveloping her head and she continued to quake, but more violently. Damn psycho. I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to say, "We won't hurt you, moron."

Mrs. P. looked stunned at the behavior and turned to scurry out of the room, down the hall and stairs, and into the living room. The three of us that remained (which was Prongs, Evans and I) stared blankly at each other, as shocked as Mrs. P. was with Schaffer and her antics. Evans was the first to react. She walked to the girl on the floor and placed a hand on her shoulder, only to be pushed away forcefully into a wall through magic. Schaffer pulled her head up for a minute, to look at Evans, strapped by magic to the wall and looking pained at the hurling, and then to Prongs and I to the wall.

James was murderous.

He let out a war cry and dove for her, beginning to hit and punch and smack and kick every part of her that he could reach. I started laughing. Laughing so lard my sides hurt. Laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. Laughing so hard I started crying. Laughing so hard that you couldn't even hear my laugh.

Evans let out a yell as well and it was because Prongsie was hurting the girl so badly. I could tell, just by the screams she was omitting. She was yelling so hard and began to sob. I wiped my eyes, still grinning, until I saw that Schaffer had tear tracks racing down her face and bruises on her arms and legs and cheeks. I could see James clinging to her legs, preventing her from rising and leaving while still hurting her. She was pulling away from him, trying to pry him off as she did so.

"JAMES, LET HER GO!"

Mrs. P. was screeching like a banshee at James, while releasing Evans from her prison on the wall. Schaffer still cried like a fucking baby, but there were no more sobs. Just breaking breaths and lots of tears. Mrs. P. attempted to hold her comfortingly, but the girl let out another screech and began to desperately squirm out of her reach, again looking fearful.

Mrs. P. pulled back awkwardly, blinking in confusion. "Er -- Right then, I'll see you all in the morning," she said briskly, standing and walking from the room, waving her wand to clean the mess that had occurred.


	3. Diagon Alley

**Whoo, now didn't this take a while to write! I didn't want to leave at just Fortescue's, so I continued until they all got home. Bear with me though; this was edited at 12:30 in the morning, so I might have skipped some mistakes..**

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned this whole gig, I wouldn't be sitting on my computer everyday.**

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**Two Weeks Later**

As I said, the kid's bonkers. Always screaming and running for shelter like she's about to be abused. She barely eats too; maybe a third of what Evans eats and that's a big maybe. I doubt she eats even that amount and lemme tell you, Evans doesn't eat much. Maybe the equivalent of a hungry caterpillar. And that Schaffer doesn't even know that all showers aren't defective.

One day, during breakfast, a few days after her arrival, she was idly moving her meal around her plate, never eating it. Then, she sat up and asked, "Does your bathroom work?" The girl didn't shower at all since she came, as far as I know. I was disgusted; she was dirty and grimy when she came and who knew how much more buildup came onto her body?

Mrs. P. nodded her head slowly at Schaffer, obviously thrown off at the sudden question. Looking pleased, Schaffer had leaped to her feet, raced up the stairs and jumped into the bathroom, shutting the door without an indication of what had to be done. Not that I wanted to know whether she was doing Number Two or something.

But the girl was in there for a bloody _three hours_. I was shocked. She came out like a prune and all red and blotchy, probably from scrubbing off all the dirt on her skin. But she continued out proudly, combing the tangles out, smiling to herself. She looked like a hellish _hag_ and she was stepping out with _pride?_ Honestly... She persisted to don the extremely small outfit she had arrived in. She hadn't changed from them; she hadn't wanted to. But then Evans looked at her, tilting her head thoughtfully. Turning back to Mrs. P., she whispered into the elderly Potter woman in the ear, and Mrs. P. smiled and nodded vigorously.

"A wonderful idea, Lillian!" she beamed, praising the stupid suck-up lavishly. She stopped chopping the vegetables for the vegetable stew for lunch, snatched up a fairly-sized pouch of Galleons on the mantle and beckoned us all toward her, in which we obliged, Schaffer doing so cautiously. She grabbed Floo Powder and tossed it into the hearth, leaping into the green flames shouting, "Diagon Alley!" She snatched James' arm, who grabbed Evans' hand, who robbed me of air as she held my shirt's collar, and I instinctively clutched at Schaffer's thin wrist. We all tumbled out of Potter Manor and into the hearth.

---

We ended up landing smack-dab in the middle of Diagon Alley; how, I don't know. The only one who stumbled upon landing was Schaffer. The rest had unhooked themselves from the other, but Schaffer had held onto me for to whole time. When she fell, she just had to drag me down with her. I glared at her while I stood, dusting soot off my knees and legs. Growling, I sauntered to Prongs, who was standing in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies with this his Stupid Dreamy Look. Y'know, the one he uses when he looks at Evans.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw said female stooping over Schaffer, helping her up. With a complicated wave of her wand, Evans had the girl's hair cleaned, smiling politely at her as she did so. I didn't hide my curiosity anymore; instead I turned and watched them, never once masking my inquisitiveness even as Ghost-Girl Schaffer looked my way, even as our eyes locked and I shot her a careless glare that she winced at, even as Evans noticed this and her middle finger shot up rudely at me.

I never turned away.

---

It was decided, by Mrs. P. and Evans, that we were to spend the remainder of the day at Diagon Alley so that we could get the supplies for school. Which just so happened to start in several days. I bet you can only imagine the amount of people there, scrambling to get the supplies at the last minute, like us. But we had a valid excuse and Dumbledore knew it. I mean, we had a guest (a very weird, mental guest who should've been checked into St. Mungo's instead) and that scarcely left time for buying books and school things.

We went our separate ways, James and I staying together as Mrs. P. left for Flourish and Blotts and that left me glancing back at Evans, who talked to Schaffer and linked arms with her before skipping off. I chuckled when Evans stumbled due to the reluctance of Schaffer skipping. The latter looked to the former as though she were crazy.

Snickering again, I trotted side-by-side with Prongs, entering Quality Quidditch Supplies with sudden fervor and excitement. Ahh, how I missed seeing brooms and anything Quidditch related. I made a mental note to challenge James to a game when we returned home. Touching the Silver Arrow with a smile on my lips, I looked over it hungrily. When several little kids started bounding up and screaming, begging their parents to have it (it appeared to be the last one in stock), I curled my lips in a Snapeish manner and yanked it off the rack, stalking off to the counter like a predator on the loose. I would have to stop the Snape mannerisms though; scaring little kids with my greasy Snape-hair and Dark Art fettish just _wouldn't_ do. And how many girls would swoon over me then? That's right: none.

Excluding Schaffer. She seems so weird that maybe she'd actually _like_ Snape, or anyone who looked _remotely_ like Snape. I mean, I'm just assuming. Not that my assumption would be too far off. She's probably on some Muggle drug to be so... so..._messed up_.

"Sir? Sir? Sir!" The counter-girl snapped her fingers in front of my face, frowning. I jerked out of my reverie.

"Huh?"

She smiled flirtatiously, something I didn't hesitate to return. Why was I here again? Was I here to flirt with her? For a minute, I surveyed her up and down. She was blond, tall, with brown eyes and a slender face. Her thick eyelashes batted at me, almost teasingly. Leaning on the counter with that same smile, I came to the conclusion that she was from Hogwarts, sixteen and perhaps in Ravenclaw. She _seemed_ witty enough.

Then I remembered the broom in my hands and I knew that I didn't come to flirt with her. But it was an added bonus. I grinned again, pushing the tips of black tendrils from my grey eyes, placing the broom on the counter, motioning to it briefly. I slid out ten Galleons, then five more, noting that the expected price was eighteen Galleons. Deciding to pretend that I didn't have the money, I ignored the pile of remaining Galleons in my pockets and glanced at the blond, feigning disappointment that was just flimsy enough for her to see through.

"It would seem that I'm three Galleons short," I replied, with a heavy sigh, pouting childishly at the broom I had wanted. She leaned forward, our faces scant inches from each other. In a moment of breathing in the other's scent, she spilled three heavy Galleons to the pile of mine.

"Those are for you. If you can take me to Fortescue's in ten minutes."

I winked at her, agreeing to the pact, before pushing the gold to the Raven girl. Snatching my broom, I parted the crowd with ease, moving over to Prongs who, I noted, was smirking at me with twinkling eyes. I frowned.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" I snapped. I knew exactly why he was wearing that expression while looking at me.

"You were flirting with some girl again," he replied, grinning in his amusement. I scowled.

"Was not."

"Do you even know her name?"

"..."

"That's what I thought."

"Shut it."

James laughed uproariously, earning looks from the nearby shop manager. "I thought you had a girlfriend, Pads. What was her name? Chloe?" he grinned, still shaking with fits of laughter every now and then.

Rolling my eyes, I responded, "She knew it wouldn't last long. None of my other girlfriends did."

"Meadows did."

I winced. Meadows (approprietely nicknamed "the Strippette" by the Hogwarts population) was by far the last person I wanted to date again, no matter how many times she dogged me around hinting subtly to another chance. She was a whore, a whore I had dated with for three and a half months, and I disliked her. Honestly. You'd think the multitude of times I spent yelling at her to leave me alone, she'd finally stop. But _no_, she kept right at it. I had to give it to her though: her determination amused me and at the same time I was inspired. I loved the fact that someone was always going to love me besides myself; albeit not as much I valued myself, but still, someone loved me, right?

Right.

I ignored whatever else Prongs had to say and turned on my heel, walking out without taking heed of his cries for me to slow down. The nerve of some people! I mean, really! You'd think they'd respect their superiors. The nerve, I say, the nerve!

Traveling to Flourish and Blotts, I saw out of the corner of my eye a certain redhead and a certain girl with blond hair and cobalt blue dying at the tips. Evans and Rella. Rella, first name being Catherine, just so happens to be an ex-girlfriend of mine (unsurprised? You should be). She was okay -- pretty, outgoing, friendly, amusing... But one does loose interest after a while. Plus, Rella is a bit of an oddball. Who _dyes_ their hair?

I entered Flourish and Blotts with Prongs close behind, only to see that Mrs. P. was at the counter, with _tons_ of books in tow. One by one, she placed them in a bag with an expanded inside. I grinned; no more book-shopping, I see. As Mrs. P. packed away the last of the books, I trotted off to Fortescue's with Prongs right behind. Mrs. P. raced up behind us and pulled James back, who dragged me along with him. I let out a silent huff of agitation.

"Where _are_ you two going?" she asked sharply, staring determinedly at us.

"Fortescue's." Her face brightened.

"Oh good! You can bring the girls while I continue shopping!" she said, stepping briskly from us and moving fluently toward the ice cream parlor, motioning to Evans and Rella who were standing in front of Eyelops talking to a girl whose back was to us. They snapped their attention right to Mrs. P. and followed obediently, making a motion that faintly gave me the idea that they would bring the girl with them; she recoiled, however, shaking her head in a frenzied manner, before Rella and Evans dragged her along mercilessly.

It was Schaffer.

I couldn't believe it; she looked... _normal_. Or relatively normal. Her hair was cut so that it was no longer stopped at her waist, but just below the planes of her shoulders. The thick mangy hair was thinned and layered. Now, there was also thick bold hot-pink highlights sprawled vertically down her hair. I did say relatively normal, didn't I? Yes, I did.

Stepping through the door of the ice cream parlor, I listened as the bell chimed above the door, hearing it several times as everyone in my little "pack" strolled in behind me. I made my way to the front, stepping a bit away from the counter to view the different flavors. James, Evans, Rella and Schaffer moved into a line beside me. As we all stood side-by-side, surveying the menu, I heard Schaffer say, a bit reluctantly, "Er -- what's good here?"

Evans and Rella immediately began to shoot out their own personal favorites, before abandoning the clueless Schaffer to duke out (verbally, of course; Evans doesn't have the nerve to hit someone) which flavor was the best. I watched in amusement as they continued to argue, though it was a friendly spat. Just as the bell rang again. I turned, expecting the blond from Quality Quidditch Supplies, only to hear an all too familiar voice say, "Sirius? James? Lily?" I turned to see who it was.

"Remus?" I asked, pleasantly surprised to see Remus Lupin there. His face had more scars draped on it, obviously from transformations, and his robes looked tattered and a bit worn. In his hands were several bags, with the store names from Diagon Alley on their faces. I spotted Madam Malkins somewhere behind an enormous (probably internally expanded) Flourish and Blotts bag, probably to replace his aging robes.

He smiled at us, and I spotted Rella and Schaffer looking at him curiously. Remus strode forward to greet us, then turned to the girls with a gentle smile. Same old friendly Remus. He exchanged pleasantries with Evans for a few moments, before turning to Rella with a start. After recovering from his surprise, he laughed at himself, smiling at Rella.

"Didn't see you there, Catherine! My apologies. How was your summer?"

"It's fine, Remus; and wonderful, thank-you," was the curt reply that he received. His eyes turned to Schaffer, who seemed to want to melt away at being pushed into the spotlight. Remus eyed her with blatant curiosity. "Who's this, Lily? Catherine?"

"Oh!" Evans started, smiling warmly at Schaffer before turning her eyes back to Remus. "This is JJ Schaffer; she arrived to Potter Manor about two weeks ago with Dumbledore. She was kidnapped when she was --"

"That's enough."

Schaffer had cut off Evans, her muddy brown eyes downcast. It was kind of in-your-face obvious that she didn't particularly like being captured. Remus seemed to understand and steered clear from the last bit Evans had mentioned. Smiling down at Ghost-Girl Schaffer, he took her hand and shook it.

"I'm Remus Lupin."

I could see that the simple introduction was a big deal for Schaffer. She stared down at their hands, still clutching his, smiling secretly to herself in an almost sad fashion. Her muddy brown eyes suddenly cleared and the sadness that caused it to look like mud was gone, making the shade look more like chunks of Honeydukes' best chocolate. Remus saw the great transition from five minutes ago to now.

"You're very pretty when you smile," he complimented politely. Suddenly, Schaffer's cheeks stained pink and her shy nature returned, moving her head downward to avoid Remus' kind stare. Then, gently, he tilted her chin up with two of his fingers, smiling again. "It was a compliment, and I'm not lying." And she smiled.

I felt a sudden jealousy, not at what was being exchanged or if feelings were being surfaced between the two, but because I could never be what Remus was. I would never love someone that way; it would all be a physical relationship, all be about seeing how fast I could bed her. After the conquest, I would throw her out. Talking after that was a rarity, not because it was awkward, but because I was always looking for someone else to fuck. But Remus... Remus was actually _saving_ himself for someone special and Lord knew it would _have_ be someone special to catch his eye like that. I would never fall in love. I hated people who found it, because they were lucky enough to. I hated the people who had gentleness implanted in their personalities, because I would never be anything more than a plaything to toy with at bedtime.

Driving myself from the reverie and swamp of jealousy, I tore my eyes from Remus and Schaffer, who were trading words and what they wanted to get, as I heard the bell dinging. Turning expectantly toward the entrance, I smirked at the blond bombshell that I encountered at Quality Quidditch Supplies. As the motion was returned, she swooped down and linked arms with me, driving me to the counter forcefully.

"One banana split," she said confidently, without even asking me what I wanted to have. I definitely hadn't wanted to share a banana split with her; I just wanted to get two separate ice creams, mine being their special ChocoLand in a Cone. Or whatever it happened to be called, I just wanted that overload of chocolate in a _ridiculously_ small wafer cone. Suddenly downcast at the "date," I picked up the bowl with the banana split and felt her direct us to a booth in the corner, by the window. She grinned at me, suddenly very amiable despite her controlling attitude.

"So -- are you going to the school this year?" I heard Remus ask Schaffer. Schaffer just so happened to be contentedly eating the ice cream _I_ had wanted.

"I dunno. I don't think so," she replied morosely.

Tearing my attentions back to the blond beauty clinging to my arm for dear life, I placed the ice cream down at the table, sliding in on one side as the blond sat at the other. "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name earlier," I hinted, dunking my spoon in for a huge mouthful.

"Oh, it's Melissa," she replied, smiling, doing the same as I did.

"Sirius," I replied, returning the smile. And for a while we spoke small talk, when we were interrupted by a loud squeal near the doorway of Fortescue's.

"SIRY!" cried a female's voice. Melissa sat straighter and craned her neck, eagerly watching as a group of three stylishly dressed girls with bangles and bracelets and such adorning both of their wrists and a fine number of jewelry hanging around their necks as well as dangling earrings on each earlobe of each girl. A pair of sunglasses each rested atop their silky tresses. They were donning Muggle clothing, presumably designer-name brands, with top-of-the-line Muggle technology (I think they were telleephohns; that's how they pronounce it at least) resting in their clasped hands, their numerous bags hanging at their elbows.

"Oh, _Siry_, it's been _too long_!" the ringleader cried. Great. Just what I needed.

Here came the biggest pain in my arse: Heather Meadows.

"Go away, Meadows," I mumbled. I immediately got to my feet, motioning for Melissa to do the same. When she obliged, I noticed Meadows' eyes flash dangerously upon spotting her.

"Who's your friend, Siry?" she asked, an underlaying vehemence in her voice.

"I'm Melissa. How do you do?" the blond replied, but the politeness intended with such words were sucked out by the sudden ire that was evident in both her tone and her voice. "Or, better yet, _who are you_?"

To such a question, Meadows sniffed, irked at Melissa's question. Holding her head slightly higher, nose in the air, she replied with a cold tinge to her words.

"Heather Meadows, daughter of Ministry official Charlus Meadows and publicized model Stella Meadows, sibling to the famed Healer Lena Meadows, straight-O student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a Ravenclaw_seventh_ year, and proud _girlfriend_ of Hogwarts' very own Gryffindor heartthrob, _Sirius Black_," she stated, smirking at the very end.

"Now, wasn't _that_ a mouthful," I voiced dryly. I turned to address Melissa, but I only just glimpsed her jogging down the streets of Diagon Alley in the window. She was obviously intimidated by Meadows. Not only that, but _she said she was my bleeding girlfriend!_

With a growl, I leaped to my feet, shaking in rage. She had stepped a toe out of line. I didn't even get to talk to Melissa much!

"You _bitch_!"

My words vibrated in the ice cream parlor, which had grown silent at my outburst. I heard the small talk between Remus and Schaffer cease, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Schaffer being tapped by Rella who had been spoken to by Evans just a minute ago. Rella whispered something in her ear, to which Schaffer smirked at but never replied to.

"I was talking to her, you snide twit! Honestly, woman! What do I have to do to get it through your thick skull? _I don't like you in any way, shape, or form!_" I shouted.

"Well ex_cuse_ me! Honestly! I was just doing you a favor! That _whore_ was trying to bed you, and this is my thanks?" Meadows scoffed. Then I heard a fit of loud laughter.

Feminine laughter.

Turning, slightly irritated, I spotted Schaffer doubled over, laughing uncontrollably, a grin adorning her face. But there was dark amusement in her face, nothing remotely kind that she was laughing at. I frowned.

"A favor? Really, I knew there was something wrong with you the moment you stepped in," Schaffer snickered, grinning. "What type of a magical priss struts in, wearing _ridiculously_ high-priced designer _Muggle_-name brand clothing with _Muggle_ technology?"

Meadows looked _quite_ affronted.

"But, _favor_? What type of favor? Teaching us how to scare Muggles once Halloween rolls around? Insignificant _sluts_ like you will throw themselves at unwilling victims. You said _she_ was a whore? Look in the mirror. I've never seen anyone so desperate that they waltzed about pretending to be innocent bystanders' girlfriends," Schaffer spat, looking thoroughly disgusted at Meadows.

For once, Heather Meadows was rendered speechless.

"Why-I-she -- why, you insolent fag!" Meadows struck a fuming Schaffer across the face, who let out a sharp gasp as she was slapped. That definitely silenced her.

But then it got Remus going.

"Don't hit her!" he cried, leaping to his feet. "Everything she said was true! Don't cause physical pain just because you can't face the truth!" The anger was practically radiating from him. Meadows stared at him, starstruck.

"Run off, Lupin, play with your dolls," she snapped.

"Leave him alone, Meadows!" Evans shouted, also straightening up. This made Rella and Prongs to get to their feet as well, slower than the rest, just in case Evans was to be slammed as well.

"You hideous squib!" Meadows retorted.

James was off in a second, as well as Rella. Soon, Meadows was boxed in, with insults flying everywhere. When she turned to address her posse, they were no where to be found, leaving her sputtering in indignation. But that was before she whipped around, ignoring the loud jeers of anger she received upon her exit. Or, at least, ignoring them the best she could. The minute she stepped out, everyone turned to Schaffer, with wide grins. Her dark amusement dissipated, leaving her shying away again, a hand resting limply on her scorching cheek.

"That was _amazing_, Schaffer!" Prongs exclaimed gleefully, grinning from ear to ear. Still Schaffer shrunk away.

"Agreed, James," Remus said, smiling at her.

"Never knew you were so_feisty_, JJ!" Rella shrieked, cackling like a mad hag.

She just smiled, not overly fond of the spotlight, still nursing the red welt on her cheek from the Strippette. Remus stepped to her side, placing his hand on hers in concern.

"Are you okay?" he questioned, never masking his anxiousness toward her wellbeing. She offered him a reassuring smile, with a murmured, "I'm used to it."

Mrs. P. stumbled inside, grinning, as she settled her eyes for Schaffer. She staggered toward her, panting. The aging woman looked like she had just ran a marathon. "JJ, I got you some new clothes from the nearby boutiques in London, outside of the Leaky Cauldron, and some new robes for school!" she squealed, like an excited thrid-year chirping gossip she had heard in her previous class. Schaffer, however, straightened up and looked as though Christmas had come early.

"You told me you weren't going to school," Remus said impishly, grinning at her gung ho expression.

"I-I- I never knew I was going to school," she replied dazedly, a faraway look in her eyes.

"Come along, we should be getting back," Mrs. P. said, rounding us all up and herding all six of us out the door with all our purchased items in a singular, magically-expanded bag in her hand. "You can all stay over until you get to Hogwarts, I'll owl your parents of your whereabouts, aye Remus? Er -- Catherine, is it? Yes, well, onward my pretties! Dinner should be hot and waiting for us on the table."

With a cheery smile, she stepped into the Leaky Cauldron and made her way to the mantle. Extracting a pouch of Floo Powder from inside her robes, she offered it to all of us before taking a handful for herself. And soon all of us, all six of us, were back in Potter Manor, famished and ready to eat what delicious food the Potter elves had prepared for us in the hours we had been gone.


End file.
